


Nightmares (sometimes) Fade to Dreams

by xxxRIPLEYxxx



Series: Travels of a Space Viking [3]
Category: Avengers, Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Crossover Pairings, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, Geralt is fucking awesome, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Loki is still a mess, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Endgame 2012 Loki, Smut, Tesseract, Voice Kink, frostwolf - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:49:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22449721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxxRIPLEYxxx/pseuds/xxxRIPLEYxxx
Summary: Loki has a problem. He not only can’t stop thinking about Geralt, but he also needs him for his long-term plan. But, when Loki goes back to the Continent to find Geralt, the Witcher has no memory of him, and that drives Loki nearly to obsession.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Loki (Marvel)
Series: Travels of a Space Viking [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590007
Comments: 12
Kudos: 38





	Nightmares (sometimes) Fade to Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the wonderful comments and kudos on the last part, I was motivated to do a Loki/Geralt reunion fic, which completely derailed my original intent for this series (Travels of a Space Viking). But, I have to admit these two fascinate me. They’re getting deeper and deeper into something they don’t really understand, and that’s becoming kind of my thing in fics, I guess. I have some anxiety about this fic. I hope you enjoy.

Loki couldn’t even remember how many different realms, planets, or even galaxies he’d been to since he’d seen Geralt. It had been over a year since he’d left the Witcher, and his thoughts kept returning to the man with the platinum hair. He was unlike any creature Loki had ever met, and he’d met a few—especially in the past year.

And, so, here he was. Staring up at the ceiling, sleep evading him again, with one of Knowhere’s most beautiful women in his bed, and he was thinking about Geralt. 

Loki had given The Witcher the opportunity to say he’d rather have him as a woman, and he hadn’t taken it. He’d accepted him as a man; as who he really was. Loki preferred(no,  _loved_ ) being a man—having a cock and using it. He had no problem shifting into female form when it suited his needs, but he could not imagine living without his dick any more than he could imagine living without his magic.

And, Geralt reminded him of a simpler time in his life. A time when he hadn’t known that Thor was, _and had always been_ ,  the Chosen One who would succeed Odin on the throne of Asgard to rule the Nine Realms. When he and Thor had truly been brothers in their youth. Geralt was the ultimate fantasy who combined the courage and honor of Shield Brother with the acceptance and sexuality of Lover. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d had sex lately with beings of either gender (or who-the-fuck-knew what gender), and it had been the image of The Witcher in his head when he’d climaxed. 

He  needed Geralt, and not only for sex. He needed someone strong and resourceful and dependable; someone he could trust. Unless he intended to stay on the run for the rest of his life, he’d have to face Thanos one day, and if he were to have any real chance against the Mad Titan, he needed another Infinity Stone. And, with what Geralt had explained about the monsters on his world coming from another dimension, perhaps the two of them could also help stop that “end of all things” Geralt had spent his life fighting against, once they had another Stone.

On Knowhere, rumors were flying that Asgard had brought something of great importance to the Collector, and he intended to find out what it was. Was it another Infinity Stone? It seemed likely, and if the rumors were true, he’d go back and convince Geralt to help him get it. 

He wasn’t really too worried about being recognized. He was pretty insignificant to the Collector in the grand scheme of things. The Collector claimed to be as old as time, and there was no way he would know Loki had the Tesseract. He was certain Asgard would not allow the knowledge he had escaped with it to spread, so he just had to make the correct guess about which Asgardians had been sent here. He had no idea how Asgard had acquired it, why they would have sent it here, or which of the Stones it was. Perhaps Odin didn’t trust it to be in his vault, since he knew Loki was on the loose with the Tesseract, but it almost had to be Thor who obtained it. And, Thor would have sent one of his three best friends, if not all of them, to deliver it. 

He finally decided on Volstagg. Yes, in the morning, Volstagg would call on the Collector and see how he reacted. Having finally made a decision, he turned his mind to other things, since sleep was not in his immediate future. 

“Sendaya...are you awake?” he put an arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. 

“I am now,” she said sleepily. 

She wiggled her hip against the erection that was pressing into her and smiled. She’d met this handsome, charming stranger at one of the Collector’s social events and they’d hit it off immediately. She’d never had any lack of male attention, but this Loki of Rivia was exceptionally fascinating, and it was possible this could develop into something more than just sexual attraction. Although, if it turned out to be no more than that, she still wouldn’t consider it wasted time. 

_Mmm...oh...no, this is definitely time well-spent_ ,  she thought, as he pulled back the covers and slid down to open her legs. 

“Has anyone ever told you your mouth is magical?” she murmured.

“Once or twice,” Loki grinned, right before his tongue slipped between her thighs.

*****

The next morning, after Sendaya had left, he shifted into Volstagg’s form and set out to the Collector’s penthouse. He had learned that the entire collection of artifacts was kept there in order to be close to him, so he could easily inspect it whenever the mood struck him. 

At the mention of the name Volstagg of Asgard, he was immediately ushered into the waiting/reception room by the two imposing-looking guards and what appeared to be Tivan’s personal manservant. Good. He was on the right track. Taneleer Tivan, better known as The Collector, was a fairly imposing figure, although his manner suggested an obsequious subservience.

“I am honored by an Asgardian, yet again,” Tivan bowed deeply and ended it with an exaggerated flourish.

“Yes, Collector. I was sent to be sure the object in question was safely stored and that you’ve had no problems withit,” Loki replied, with a very slight bow.

“None at all, my lord. None at all. Would you care to see it?” Tivan’s voice was hopeful; even proud. He wanted to show it off.

“Most certainly. I’d like to be able to tell Odin I’ve laid eyes on it and that all is well.” 

The Collector led him down two flights of stairs into the most bizarre set of rooms Loki had ever seen. It was like a museum, except for the fact that many of the exhibits were living creatures. The despair and sadness emanating from them was almost too much to bear for Loki’s heightened senses. He took a deep breath and followed the man in front of him to a small vault contained inside a glass room, and took in every detail he could without seeming too curious. 

Tivan opened the vault with a fingerprint and a number code he was very careful to hide from potentially prying eyes, and removed a glass cylinder containing a red vapor. 

_ I was right.  _ _The Reality Stone_. 

Loki carefully blanked his expression, trying not to display any sense of excitement. Tivan carried it in both hands and presented it as if it were the most valuable piece in his collection. It likely was, but Loki simply nodded his approval. 

”Excellent. Thank you. Odin will be pleased that you have taken this so seriously.”

“I would take it no other way. Asgard has bestowed upon me a great honor. Please convey to him my undying gratitude and regard.”

*****

Having told Sendaya he would be gone for an indefinite length of time, he used the Tesseract to return to Geralt’s world. He was very glad he’d put the tracking spell in The Witcher, because it made it fairly easy to find him, once he’d approximated the correct solar system and then planet. He’d also finally perfected the art of using the Tesseract with it still in his pocket dimension instead of having to manifest it and physically hold it. That alone made him far more at ease, since he would rather no one else ever saw it. 

Loki appeared in the middle of a road deeply rutted with wagon tracks in a wooded area close to the one where he’d first seen Geralt. About thirty meters off the road, a fire was visible, and he could see as he walked toward it that a man was sitting near it mixing something in a large bowl. As soon as the man realized he was not alone, he sprung to his feet, sword in hand. 

“Who the fuck are you?”

Geralt looked exactly as Loki had remembered him. The chiseled features, the platinum hair, the heavy muscle of his chest and arms under the leather vest... Loki’s heart skipped a beat. Seeing him after so long made his breath stutter and he stepped forward so his face was visible in the firelight. 

“Geralt, it’s me—Loki. I’m back.”

“What are you talking about? Who’s Loki?”

He did not relax nor drop his sword arm. 

“Do you truly not remember? You were dying and I healed you from poison. We fought Alghouls and we spent two days and nights together.”

Loki’s voice held a mixture of hurt, confusion, and concern. How could Geralt have forgotten completely? It didn’t seem possible. He turned his palms up to show he was unarmed and took another step forward. 

“I assure you I mean you no harm. Please, put down the sword. You know me.”

Geralt stared at him for a few moments without moving, then dropped his sword arm to his side and moved towards him.

“You aren’t a mutant, you aren’t human and you aren’t Elven. You have magic, but it’s different from what I know. What _are_ you?” The Witcher asked. 

“I am Jotunn and Aesir, from Asgard. Loki of Asgard, remember?”

Geralt shook his head. He wanted to remember, but there were only shadowy wisps—hints of a memory.

_ Why do so many things have to turn to shit? _

“I remember nothing of the past two years. I...either died or nearly died and when I revived, part of my memory was gone. It’s happened once before. I’m sorry, but I don’t remember you. You know who... _what_ I am?”

“Yes, I know.” 

_ And I’ve held onto the memory of you for over a year now. _

Loki’s eyes met The Witcher’s golden ones and held them for a moment, then looked away, the hope he’d had starting to dissolve. Without waiting for an invitation, he dropped to the ground and sat cross-legged by the fire, staring into it, trying to decide what to say. 

“Well, apparently we were friends,” said Geralt, his lips turning up slightly at the corners.

“I can’t imagine many strangers sitting at my fire without a second thought.”

“Yes. We were friends,” Loki said, his eyes shining in the firelight. 

He looked away and wiped the back of a hand across his eyes. Of course, he _could_ reach into Geralt’s head and see what his mind might be hiding from his consciousness, but he would not ask to do such a thing of a man who saw him as a complete stranger. 

“Is there anything that can be done to help your memory?”

“I don’t know. Why is it so important to you?”

“Because I want—“ Loki stopped mid-sentence and readied a fireball.

“Someone—something—is here. Behind me,” he whispered. 

Geralt stepped forward, sword ready, as Loki whirled around to see an insect the size of a dog with blades for legs. It leapt into the air just as he loosed the fireball and he rolled to the side as it landed next to him. The fireball had hit it mid-section, but he barely avoided decapitation from its flailing legs. A bladed tip sliced across his neck and made a bloody stripe. Geralt cut through two legs and then chopped its head off.

“What the hell was that?!” 

“An assassin’s pet. Stay ready,” said Geralt in a low voice.

“I hear more of them,” whispered Loki.

“Me, too.”

They glanced at each other, knowing they were surrounded, so Loki grabbed Geralt’s arm and used the Tesseract to teleport them a hundred meters down the road. Geralt’s brow furrowed, confused.

“Sorry. The old you would have known about that. Which way?”

The Witcher pointed down the road. 

“About five kilometers to town. Roach is there, too.”

“Roach?” Now Loki was confused. Did Geralt keep a cockroach as a pet?

“My horse. You knew me before and you don’t know Roach?”

“No. We were...otherwise occupied with many things.” 

Before Geralt could say more, Loki transported them exactly five kilometers down the road, and they were standing on the outskirts of a town. He’d gotten much better with the Space Stone in the past year. He was able to use it with near-pinpoint accuracy over short distances now, even to places he’d never been, if he could visualize them well. It had been quite a learning curve over long distances and had nearly cost him his life more than once. The first time he’d tried to go to Knowhere, he’d landed in the center of it and was almost crushed by a piece of mining equipment. 

Geralt led the way to a tavern, where he ordered them pints and asked for two rooms. The noise of the busy tavern died to almost nothing, and everyone in the room stared at them, murmuring.

“It’s the hair,” he said to Loki, sighing. 

“Witchers who survive long enough get silver hair, and there aren’t that many of us left.”

His eyes scanned the room before speaking in a loud voice.

“Nothing to see here. Just two friends having a drink,” said Geralt pointedly, and most everyone returned to their conversations.

“The pints I can give you, but I only have one room,” said the innkeeper hesitantly. 

The Witcher shrugged.

“That’s all right. I’m fine on the floor. One room it is.” 

When they’d gotten their pints, which tasted better than Loki was expecting, his eyes met Geralt’s over the rim of the mug as he drank. The golden irises were every bit as mesmerizing as he remembered. Then, Geralt made a motion with his hand to his own throat, and Loki remembered his wound. He laid fingertips to it and The Witcher watched as it closed.

“Faster than I heal. Impressive.” 

“That’s a spell. My natural rate is about the same as yours,” Loki answered. 

“You know a lot about me, Loki of Asgard.”

_Time to change the subject. Wait for privacy._

“You said those were assassins’ pets. Why were they after you?”

“Who knows? I’ve managed to live long enough to have made more than a few enemies. But, that’s unusual, even for me. To hire that caliber of assassin requires a fair amount of coin, so it must be someone who sincerely wants me dead. It would help if I could remember what happened to me.”

He stared at Loki for a few moments.

“You said you saved me from poison before, and this time from an assassin. Do you just have a knack for showing up when I need you, or is there more I should know?”

“You let me put a tracking spell in you so I could find you again. I’m not from around here.”

“I did? Well, fuck. I guess I must have trusted you, then. Come on—let’s get some sleep. We can figure this out in the morning.”

The innkeeper had given them an extra blanket and pillow for the floor and they both stripped down to leather breeches. Hoping to jog Geralt’s memory, Loki undressed slowly and allowed him a good look at his bare torso, then circled casually around him.

"May I?" he asked, as he reached a hand toward Geralt's back.

Geral nodded and Loki ran his fingers gently across the prominent scars. 

“I had told you I could remove those scars if you wanted me to,” he said, making eye contact. 

“I don’t remember that. But, your eyes...something about your eyes does make me believe I’ve seen them before. No one else I’ve ever met has eyes that green. Like a dragon’s.” 

“And, I told you I was a shape-shifter; that I could be a woman if you wanted me to be.”

“Hm. It’s starting to sound as though we were a little more than just friends,” Geralt said, glancing sideways at Loki. 

_You have no idea. At least, to me._

“I believed we were. Would you let me try to help you remember?”

“Depends. What do I have to do?”

“Nothing. Just let me. I need to touch your face, if that’s all right.”

Geralt nodded and allowed Loki to hold his face in both hands. He couldn’t tell exactly what was happening, but he  felt Loki in his mind, his presence like a warm connection. It was surprisingly reassuring, and it was even more surprising that he’d found himself agreeing to it so readily. 

Loki immediately felt the barrier—the place in Geralt’s mind he could not go. Perhaps he could break it down, given enough time, but for the moment there was only one thing he could see that The Witcher didn’t already know, and it shocked him. The last thing Geralt had seen before his death was himself—his own face looking down at him—just as the Evil Loki had looked down at him. 

“There’s another you. A duplicate. He was the last thing you saw before you died or blacked out, and he was standing over you, laughing.”

“A Doppler, then.A shape-changer like you. Most of them are harmless, but occasionally they take a wrong turn. Hm. Now, I suppose I just need to find myself.”

He grinned at his own joke as he lay down on the floor and pulled the blanket over him. 

“Good night, Loki of Asgard. See you in the morning. Long day’s ride tomorrow.”

“Sleep well, Witcher."

Loki again found himself staring at the ceiling. What had he been thinking? He’d truly thought there had been something between them, and now he didn’t know what to believe. He’d wanted nothing more than to shove Geralt against the wall, to feel those lips on his own, to run his hands over that scarred torso. To look down and see those golden eyes gazing up into his own while he watched his cock move in and out of that hot, wet mouth. He ached just picturing that and his erection would not let the relaxation of sleep take him. It was torture to be so close to this man he wanted so badly and couldn’t show it.

He let his hand slip down under the blanket and opened the lacings of his leather breeches. He was already hard and touching himself with Geralt sleeping just feet away made him bite his lip to stay silent.

_Ah, Loki, what are you doing? Are you really this weak and needy?_

But, he could already feel the drops of pre-cum leaking from his slit and ran his thumb over it, making his hips jerk upward unbidden. He turned onto his side and buried his face in the pillow as he worked himself to orgasm, the memory of the Witcher’s hard length inside him still vivid. He was barely able to bite back a groan when he came, covering his hand and the inside of his leathers with his own slick. 

And, still, rest eluded him. Finally, he’d had to cast a sleep spell on himself and hope that the nightmares Geralt had helped rid him of did not return. Fortunately, he slept the night through without waking up in a cold sweat.

*****

The next morning, they retrieved Roach,procured Loki a horse, and headed to Cintra, where Geralt had woken up. 

He’d thought he and Queen Calanthe had parted on reasonably friendly terms, but who knew what had happened that he didn’t remember? Had she been responsible for his apparent demise this time? He needed to see her personally and figured the time on horseback would give Loki and him time to speak, rather than using the Asgardian’s instant travel method, useful as it was. 

Loki asked many questions about Geralt’s world and much of their ride was spent familiarizing him with the politics, culture, and geography. He was a good listener and asked intelligent questions, and Geralt found he truly enjoyed the company. That in itself was rare—not to mention the fact that this was a longer conversation than he'd had with anyone in months. Possibly years. 

He really didn’t remember this man, but something about him touched a part of him he didn’t even know he had. When Loki had undressed last night, it was all he could do to keep from staring. Such physical beauty should be reserved for women, yet he’d wanted to touch, to run his hands over that unmarred skin. Loki had implied they were more than just friends, but what did that mean, exactly? Should he just ask? No. Not yet. One thing at a time, and he needed to find out what had happened to his memory first. 

But, last night there was something...a flash of Loki and him fighting two Alghouls. ‘Shield Brothers,’ Loki had said, and that was all he could remember.

“What is a Shield Brother?” Geralt asked.

Loki fixed his gaze on The Witcher.

“It’s a custom we have on Asgard. When people fight together, they’re bound to each other by honor in battle. The binding can take many forms, from simply getting drunk together to...much deeper loyalties.”

‘’And what form did ours take?”

“That’s the question, is it not?”

Loki shook his head and grinned. He urged his horse into a canter and relished being on horseback again. Since he'd died when he dropped off the Bifrost into the Void and been resurrected by Thanos, it had literally been a lifetime since he’d smelled the sweat of a horse and felt the wind in his hair, and it was glorious. 

*****

They’d just sat down to eat after settling their horses into a stable and finding a tavern when Geralt asked him again. 

“Why is it so important to you that I remember you?” 

“I—I would like it for my own...peace of mind, perhaps...but also because I want your help. People as powerful as you that I can trust are rare. I need your help to obtain something—an object of great power that could help both of us. It may aid you in your battle against the convergence of dimensions.”

“And what if I never remember you? Will you still trust me then?”

_The real question is whether you'll trust me._

“I believe we can learn to trust each other again even if you never remember me.I have to believe it. My long-term survival may depend on it.” 

Loki explained some basics about the Infinity Stones and why he needed another, and Geralt whistled softly. 

“Well, you aren’t short on ambition, are you? Maybe we can work something out. But, first, I need to see Calanthe in the morning. I can handle her alone, but if you’d like to come along—“

“Of course. I have nowhere else to be. I came here specifically to see you.”

Geralt was starting to suspect there really had been much more to their relationship than even Loki was letting on. He rarely had any desire for company, but found himself wanting to be around the Asgardian, and his hunches were seldom wrong. Maybe it was as simple as the fact that neither of them was human, but it felt like more. Much more. 

Fortunately for Loki, they had separate rooms that night, because he wasn't at all certain he could have kept quiet a second time. 

*****

They arrived as Calanthe was holding court, seeing to the mundane duties of ruling a kingdom: making judgments in business squabbles, listening to petitioners, and making the other day-to-day decisions that Loki had grown up dealing with as a Prince of Asgard. But, as soon as he and Geralt strode into the room, her eyes immediately focused on them. 

“Geralt of Rivia! Have you come to rescue me from my terminal boredom, then? I can only hope. Do approach.”

Loki stayed back while Geralt bypassed a line of petitioners to stand in front of the queen. 

“I need to speak with you privately, Queen Calanthe. I need your advice.”

She looked at him like he’d just grown another head, then laughed.

“You need  _my_ advice? Has the end of the world come so soon?”

He remained silent while she looked him up and down, then at Loki.

“A new companion? Does this one sing any better than the last?”

“That’s a question you’ll have to ask him. I have no fucking idea.”

“Very well. I finish here in an hour. Join me for lunch.” 

She paused, looking Loki up and down.

“Both of you.”

*****

Geralt introduced him and Calanthe motioned them to sit and eat. The food was good and Loki listened and watched carefully as Geralt and Calanthe jousted back and forth. It seemed they had history, and Loki wondered whether it had included an intimate relationship.

_ It's none of your business, Loki. _

She was a good-looking woman, though, and a warrior queen in a man’s world. She would have made a fine Asgardian and he could imagine Geralt being attracted to her. Hell,  _he_ was attracted to her.

“So...what brings you here, Witcher? I heard you were in Skellige and that you killed the Jarl’s son Eric.” 

“I did? When?”

She shrugged.

“A few days ago. Why?”

Geralt glanced at Loki, then back to Calanthe.

“I...lost part of my memory. But, that was two weeks ago. I know exactly where I’ve been the past two weeks, and it wasn’t Skellige. But, that would explain who had the coin to hire the assassin that made a run at me a couple of nights ago. My companion here helped me out of that situation.”

“Good. I’d hate to think there might not be more of these little talks I enjoy so much,” she laughed and patted his arm.

“A Doppler, perhaps? It’s easy to imagine the Jarl might have hired one to pretend to be you on a rampage. You know how we humans feel about Witchers, and you’re an easy scapegoat if he wanted Eric dead. He favors his other son Damon and Eric was developing a strong following.”

The thought of a king killing his son to keep him from the throne hit a little too close to home, and Loki felt a wave of anger and pain wash over him. Asgard was lost to him, and the best he could hope for now was to survive Thanos. He couldn’t even think about what his future might be beyond that. He couldn’t even assume he _had_ a future beyond Thanos. 

They took their leave of Calanthe and rode toward the coast.When Geralt pointed to an island in the distance as their destination, Loki rode up next to him and took his arm. In the blink of an eye, the two of them and their horses were on the island, and Geralt just shook his head. 

“You’d best hope no ruler of a kingdom here learns of that ability, or you’ll be hunted as a prize for the rest of your life.”

Loki shrugged. 

“If they insisted on me taking them anywhere, they’d find themselves dead in an instant,” Loki responded. 

As they approached Kaer Trolde on Skellige, they were met by a large contingent of soldiers, the leader of which reined his horse to a stop in front of them. 

“Geralt of Rivia. You are under arrest for the murder of Eric The Bold, son of the Jarl of Skellige. Throw down your weapons  now and come with us.”

His eyes met Loki’s and Loki knew Geralt was weighing his options. These men weren’t bandits or criminals; they were simply soldiers in the service of their Jarl. If he killed them all or if he ran, his life would never be the same and he would spend it looking over his shoulder even more than he did now. He’d be wanted dead in several kingdoms. No, there was only one reasonable option, and Loki voiced it for him. 

“Go with them, Geralt. I’ll find the Doppler. Trust me. I’ll bring him in.”

Geralt sighed, nodded, and dismounted, throwing his swords to the ground. A guard picked them up and he was escorted away surrounded by both foot and horse soldiers. Loki watched them leave before grabbing Roach’s reins and transporting them back to the mainland. 

It didn’t make sense that the Doppler would stay on the island after having killed one of their princes, so Loki headed for the nearest mainland city to the north. It was as good a place to start as any, so he found a suitable stable for the horses and began his search. He made the rounds of several taverns, hoping to get word out before it was common knowledge Geralt had been taken. Skellige was a set of islands and word would travel slowly, so he made large offers of coin to anyone who could take him to The Witcher. 

He found him in the fourth tavern, drinking alone at a table. He was, in every physical aspect, the exact duplicate of Geralt. Of course, he wouldn’t have the magic, but he probably did have The Witcher’s strength, so he’d have to be approached carefully. Loki started by buying him a drink and using charm to bring his guard down, which was less difficult than he’d expected. Apparently, Dopplers were not especially intelligent creatures, or else they were just extremely gullible. When the Doppler stepped outside to piss, Loki followed. He slammed the hilt of a dagger into the Doppler’s temple, sending him unconscious to the ground. He didn’t want to give the creature an opportunity to shift out of Geralt’s shape before he got him to the island.

_Well.  That was easier than I thought it would be._

He slung the unconscious body over his shoulder and blinked out, reappearing at the outskirts of Kaer Trolde, and strode into town. He was immediately intercepted by guards and explained why he was there, in case it wasn't obvious from the figure he was carrying.By the time they’d reached the main castle, there was a line of people following him like the Pied Piper, pointing and exclaiming.

*****

Loki stood in front of the Jarl‘s empty throne with the unconscious creature at his feet, waiting until Geralt was brought into the room in chains. The Witcher smiled broadly when he saw them, as if he hadn’t really expected Loki to have come back. 

“You kept your word, Asgardian,” sounding a little surprised.

Loki felt a shiver of...what? Appreciation? Pride?

_Are you some ingenue at court, smitten by a Prince's glance? Don't be an idiot_.

The Jarl entered the room and sat down, a younger man standing a little behind the throne. Loki assumed it was the other son, Damon; he looked very much like the Jarl, and he was extremely agitated. The Jarl himself just looked confused, and Loki understood then what the situation was. The Jarl hadn’t killed his own son—Damon had had his brother killed, and it should be simple enough to prove it. 

“All right, Loki of Asgard. Explain what’s going on here. What am I looking at?” asked the Jarl. 

“This Doppler killed your son and tried to blame it on Geralt. I can prove it as soon as he wakes up,” said Loki.

Damon was growing angry and more agitated, fists clenching and unclenching.

“Father, you cannot believe a complete stranger and a shape-shifter. It’s a ridiculous tale.”

“Quiet, Damon. I’ll hear him out.”

Loki nudged the Doppler with his foot until he began to stir, then leaned down and slapped him several times across the face. As soon as he woke, Loki yanked him to his feet and put a dagger to his throat.

“You killed the Jarl's son and tried to kill the Witcher. Why?”

The moment Loki’s dagger appeared in his hand and the blade pressed against the Doppler’s jugular vein, it hit Geralt like a lightning bolt. Loki’s dagger slicing across the Alghoul’s throat, his voice as their foreheads touched...’Shield Brothers’...the sudden shift back to their campsite and Loki pushing him against a tree—all of it. And, in spite of everything happening right now, there was a pull in his groin, an intake of breath as he saw himself on his knees in front of Loki. But, he jerked himself back to what was actually in front of him and listened.

“Your son—it was Damon. He made me kill Eric. He said he’d kill me and all of my kind if I didn’t. I--I was supposed to kill you, too, tomorrow, but I wasn't going to do it. I was planning to tell you-- _please_ \--I _really was_. He made me poison the Witcher, but I underestimated how much it would take to kill him.”

The room exploded into a flurry of yelling, fighting, and general confusion. By the time it was over, Damon and the Doppler were in chains and Geralt was free, and he and Loki walked out the gates of the city together. 

“Looks like I owe you again, Loki of Asgard. How can I repay you?”

_ Kiss me. Fuck me. Help me steal the Reality Stone.  _

“I can probably think of something later. Right now, let’s just get out of here.”

*****

Once they were back on the mainland, they made camp and Loki accompanied Geralt while he searched for the flowers, roots, and herbs he needed to make his potions. 

“So, you make these concoctions to enhance your mutated and magical abilities?” Loki asked.

“Yes. You might be able to use them, too, since your constitution seems to be similar. On the other hand, they might kill you. I don’t know.” 

“Perhaps I’ll try one someday, then, but for now, I’ll leave them to you.” 

Geralt watched Loki peripherally while they foraged. He seemed almost childlike, happy and smiling, obviously at home here in the forest. Like him. 

He’d decided to wait until evening to let Loki know he’d remembered him. He’d let it be a surprise, since it seemed to mean so much to him. 

“You’ve spent some time in the forests of your world?” he asked in a conversational tone as they gathered the ingredients he needed. 

“Yes. Asgard was—is—full of wild lands and magical creatures. I miss it sometimes.”

“Can you ever go back?” 

Loki exhaled a deep breath, eyes distant. 

“No. Even if I weren’t imprisoned or exiled, I would bring destruction on it. I can never go back.”

“Imprisoned for what?”

“For trying to rule a realm. A planet.”

The Witcher laughed and whistled through his teeth.

“Well, I did say you aren’t short on ambition. What stopped you?” 

“That’s a question I’ve asked myself more than a few times.” 

Of course, he knew the simple, shorter answer: The Avengers. But, the more complex answer to the question of  _why he’d let them_ was the one he still wasn’t certain of.

*****

They’d spent most of the afternoon gathering ingredients and then a pleasant evening eating and drinking by the fire, since Loki had stashed two flasks of local whisky in his magic storage pocket. It had come highly recommended by several of the tavern patrons he’d plied for information, and he’d found it was most definitely to his taste. Like Asgardian mead, it did actually have an effect on him—and apparently on Geralt as well, if the slight glaze of the golden eyes was any indication. 

When it grew late and they were both a little drunk, Loki’s thoughts began to wander back to Geralt, even though he’d tried not to let them. 

_What am I doing? I just—never mind. I have to let it go. He doesn’t remember what I want him to remember._

The Witcher watched Loki remove his tunic and leathers and spread them on the ground near the fire. The whisky made the warmth in his groin more pronounced and the way the Asgardian’s skin glistened in the firelight made the front of his trousers tighten. He stepped in front of him, looking up slightly into the deep green eyes, and flashed a knowing grin.

“It seems you’ve conquered those night terrors, after all, Loki. I recall giving you a sleeping potion the last time you were here.”

“I—yes—you remember that?  What else do you remember?”

_ “Everything. ”  _

Two big hands grabbed Loki’s hips and pulled him forward so Geralt’s lips were to his ear. 

“That you shoved me against a tree and made our clothes disappear; the size of your cock; how hot and tight you were when I slid inside you. That there were tears on your face when I kissed you and when you came and I didn’t know why. And, most of all, the  _sounds_ you made for me. How’m I doing, Shield Brother?”

Loki’s breath stuttered and his heart pounded as his hand went to the back of Geralt’s neck, pulling him in for a rough kiss, tongue slipping deep. Then, his teeth sank into The Witcher’s shoulder and Geralt groaned. 

“You’re spot-on, Witcher. Keep talking. I need to hear more.”

Loki’s nimble fingers deftly unhooked the front of Geralt’s leathers and slowly slid them down to his ankles, then let him step out of them. His fingertips raked up his thighs, then belly and chest, and Loki felt the muscular body stiffen as his hand wrapped around the hard length. 

“I’m not...much for talking...” Geralt trailed off. 

“Hmm...I wouldn’t say that. You were doing just fine...but, it’s all right. I can talk enough for both of us.”

Loki smiled and pushed Geralt backwards onto the spread-out leathers on the ground. He twitched a hand and his own breeches disappeared, and he felt blood rush to his cock and balls with the way Geralt was looking up at him. 

“ _ Fuck_—you are absolutely breathtaking, Asgardian. You must know that.”

His voice was low and husky.

“I doubt I would ever tire of hearing you say it,” Loki said, his breath coming faster already.

“I’d almost given up hope you’d remember—the first time in years I’d actually been happy, and it was all you.”

He settled between Geralt’s knees and pressed a kiss to the inside of a thigh, then sucked and bit down on the corded tendon where it met groin. Geralt moaned and his cock twitched as Loki inhaled his scent and murmured against his skin. Loki liked to talk; he knew what he could do with his voice and he slipped into a soft, hypnotic purr. 

“I dreamt about you, Witcher, on lonely nights. How your skin felt against mine, how your mouth felt around my cock. Many times I had others in my bed, but it was your face I saw, your body I felt beneath me when I spilled my seed into them.” 

“ _Oh... fuck. How do you do that?_ You...you might make me come just from your voice.”

Loki held the growing erection with one hand around the base and licked slow, languid stripes up the length, then took just the head in his mouth and ran his tongue around the ridge. He pushed the tip of his tongue against the slit and sucked, and Geralt’s hips jerked upward into him. When he felt him slipping a little too close to the edge, he pulled off and worked his way up the muscular torso, kissing and biting little purple bruises into flesh. He held the pulsing jugular vein between his lips and hummed softly, feeling the pulse quicken. Once he was laying flat on top, their bodies sliding against each other with a sheen of sweat, he put his lips to the shell of Geralt’s ear and lowered the pitch of his voice an octave.

“ _Oh, yes, Witcher..._ I’d like to see that sometime—to make you come from the sound of my voice. To watch your face as you fall over the edge and cover yourself with your own cum. But, right now...what _I_ need right _now_ is to feel you inside me again. I want you to fuck me so hard and so long I can't remember my own name. To mark me with your seed so deep inside that I feel it in my heart. To make me know it was worth a year’s wait.”

Loki breathed his desire into Geralt's ear as he spoke, and the Witcher took the cue, rolling them over so he was on top. One of Loki’s legs immediately wrapped around his waist and his green eyes were nearly black now, pupils blown huge with need. Even though he was immune to magic, he felt the _intensity_ of that need diffusing through him like a spell.

_ A dragon’s eyes--has he charmed me somehow?  _

Geralt knew his own eyes must look the same, just rings of gold around dilated pupils. He pressed the hard, blunt tip of his erection against the sensitive ring of muscle and Loki’s hips rolled into him. The other leg wrapped around him and locked with the first, and began to pull him in. He knew Loki could make his own lubrication, but was still surprised at how slick and tight he was. Even better than he’d remembered. 

_“Ah...fuck...Loki_.”

“ _Ungh_ ...” was all Loki could manage to get out. He was nearly beyond talking now. 

Geralt moved excruciatingly slowly, wanting to pull every sound he could from Loki, until finally he leaned down into a kiss and pushed in the last inch—and Loki nearly sucked the air out of his lungs with a loud gasp. When he began to really  move, Loki’s entire body twitched with every thrust, every breath. Geralt felt a contraction around his cock every time he slid across the oversensitive prostate. His own heart pounded, his breathing fast and shallow, and he dripped sweat just from the effort of staying in control of himself. 

Loki was determined to make this last as long as he could, so he kept his hands on Geralt’s shoulders, fingers digging into flesh to keep from touching himself. 

“ _I want_ —can probably—come without your hand... _don’t stop_. ..”

“Don’t worry—I couldn’t stop right now if I had to.”

Loki pulled him down, grip so tight he was bruising Geralt’s shoulders, and covered his mouth with his own, tasting, breathing in his scent, sweat-soaked bodies moving in perfect unison. He was leaking so much pre-cum it was starting to pool around his navel. 

“ _Oh...dear gods of Asgard...please_ ...”

He didn’t even know what he was asking for. For it to never end? To come? And, Geralt...he was trying to hold on, to make Loki come before he did, but could he? He didn’t know, and he was quickly losing control. His moans became louder and more urgent, until...

“ _I can’t._..can’t hold out any longer.  _Come for me, Loki."_

He angled slightly to pound into Loki’s prostate, hard, brutally—and Loki came undone. 

_ “ Ah...ah...Geralt...I can’t...too much ...”  _

_“ _ _Yes, you can. Do it. Do it for me."_

Geralt barely had time to register the splatter of cum that covered Loki’s torso before his eyes nearly rolled back in his head and he pulsed into hot, tight flesh until he had nothing left. 

*****

After, they lay there, spent, silently gazing into the fire until exhaustion took them. Geralt felt an uneasy quiet, with so much at stake now for both of them, but maybe...maybe this unexpected turn of events could lead to something important—something good. He wondered again about Loki’s explanation for how he’d ended up here and about the Infinity Stones. Was it really a chance encounter, or were there forces at work here neither of them understood?

Geralt, who had for years had a rocky relationship with sleep himself, finally drifted off watching Loki, his breathing deep and even, the faint lines of his brow softer and more relaxed in sleep than he’d ever seen them. He wondered what the future would bring now that he had this strange, charismatic alien who said he could help stop the convergence of dimensions. And Loki...for the first time in a long time, he dreamt of a future that was more than just an endless fall back into the Void. 

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, boys...you have no idea what you’re getting into...


End file.
